RISE OF EROS

After the wild intercourse, Andrew and Vaelyra lay down on the bed next to each other, catching their breath. They didn't say anything for a few minutes as they recovered. Despite their labored breathing, they remained embraced like a loving couple, for that was what they had just become.

Surprisingly, Andrew could see that Vaelyra had received the wife seal. This was surprising because, like Helga and Layla, Vaelyra shouldn't be able to receive the wife seal yet. With vampires, there was a special case, but with Vaelyra, it wasn't the case.

It's true that Andrew has some affection for her and they had sex, but they didn't have enough affection between them to be called love, at least not on Andrew's part. From him, it was just interest and attraction.

Surprised, Andrew had to ask Fluffy what was going on. He could understand Helga and Layla receiving the wife seal due to the blood pact they made, but he didn't understand the reason for Vaelyra receiving it as well.

Make no mistake, Andrew wasn't upset; in fact, he was glad it happened since he wouldn't have to hide things from her, but still, he was still surprised by the situation and wanted to understand.

What was even more surprising was that Fluffy couldn't explain the reason. Even she was surprised that Vaelyra received Andrew's wife's seal, and no matter how much she thought, she couldn't find the reason.

This left Andrew stunned because, to date, not a single thing had happened that Fluffy couldn't explain, so he felt strange to see that he couldn't explain this event. Although strange, there was nothing that could be done, and since it didn't cause any problems for the wife seal to appear on Vaelyra, Andrew didn't pursue the issue as much as he wanted to.

When they recovered, they engaged in an intimate conversation about their relationship and many other secrets of Andrew. Vaelyra knew much about him and his position as a candidate for the god Eros, but there was still much to learn.

While they chatted, in the heart of the desert of death, where the hot breeze carried sand and echoes of laments, a cocoon of tentacles stood like the last vestige of life in a withered world.

This strange receptacle, composed of viscous and opaque substances, pulsed with an internal rhythm that resonated through the arid earth, a vibration that seemed to indicate the imminent arrival of something terrible and impressive.

Its shape was irregular, as if nature itself had struggled to contain the essence of what was to be born, and on its surface, irregular undulations and dead excrements combined, forming a grotesque fabric that evoked the image of a being in constant agony.

The tentacles, scattered and twisted, emerged from the top of the cocoon, reaching towards the sky as if seeking a connection to a world they had lost. They were covered in a dark, almost gelatinous substance that reflected the faint light of a dying sun, creating a spectacle of shadows and glitter that danced in the gloom.

Each distal tentacle ended in a series of suckers, arranged as if eagerly waiting to embrace something or someone. In each movement, there was a plea and a promise; each vibration seemed to tell stories of ancient kingdoms and forgotten wars, entwining the souls of those who had fallen in the struggle for supremacy.

The atmosphere was permeated with an overwhelming silence, broken only by the subtle and almost imperceptible sound of the cocoon. It was a murmur, a distant echo of whispers that seemed to arise from the very valleys of death that surrounded it.

In its surroundings, there was nothing but ash and desolation, a landscape ravaged by the passing of corruption. Withered trees stood like skeletons on cracked ground, their twisted branches mere reminders of what once was.

The fauna had disappeared; only a few bold, almost mutant insects ventured nearby, drawn by the strange energy emanating from the cocoon. As time progressed, the cocoon began to undergo significant changes.

Its surface, once calm and uniform, now displayed bubbles that burst loudly, releasing wisps of steam laden with a sulfurous smell that permeated the air. The former leaders of Purgatory, whose souls were trapped in this grotesque fusion, struggled within, producing a turbulence that threatened to finally break the prison that contained them.

It was a tug-of-war, a battle of wills between beings who had known ultimate power and now found themselves reduced to a mere portion of themselves. The biological structures of the cocoon began to spill over, revealing flashes of color that suggested the presence of something far more complex and terrifying than the human eye could conceive.

Iridescent spots flickered across its soft skin, echoing the colors of a distant sunset. Each flash of light was a hint of the transformation that was about to happen. There was a palpable aura, a kind of dark magnetism that attracted everything that passed by, as if the cocoon was hungry for its desolate surroundings.

As the changes continued in crescendo, the cocoon began to expand in a violent and rapid process. A hollow sound, like a deep sigh, echoed through the air, and small fragments of its exterior broke off.

Falling to the ground in a delicate act that contrasted sharply with the raw nature of the desert. Each falling fragment became an echo of the leaders' fusion; the grayish earth seemed to absorb them as if it were a thirsty sponge eager for the nectar of lost life.

All the while, the weather around the cocoon began to change. Wispy, gloomy clouds gathered over the area as if the sky itself were sensing the impending catastrophe. Lightning began to crackle in the distance, sending out bolts of pure energy that reverberated across the ground as if the earth were complaining at the suffering it was about to release.

As storms rolled in, the moisture-laden air presented an eerie feeling of anticipation, as if the universe itself were suspended in a state of waiting and anxiety. That night, as darkness settled over the landscape, the cocoon reached its peak.

The sounds within intensified, transforming into a collective scream, a wail that reverberated through the vibrant nothingness. The cocoon finally began to open, spilling forth an intense light that pierced the gloom.

It was a beacon of evil power ready to consume all that remained. Its tentacles, hitherto static, began to move frantically, fluttering like snakes in a frenzy. It was at that moment that the earth seemed to tremble; the desert of death resonated with an intensity that echoed in every corner of the world.

What emerged from that cocoon was not a simple being, but the infamous representation of the fusion of the leaders of Purgatory: a colossus of tentacles, crowned with multiple heads that reflected the essence of each of the fallen warlords.

In its gaze was an eternal fire, a flame that eagerly sought redemption and destruction at once. With every movement it made, the ground shook and cracked, and the air was filled with the smell of sulfur combined with the fragrance of what was once life.

The appearance of this beast brought with it a wave of darkness. Torrential rains began to fall, not as a symbol of hope, but as a release of the pent-up anger of those who once knew absolute power. The water soaked the earth and, with it, washed away what little life remained in the desert.

In a matter of moments, the landscape changed radically. The shadow of the beast stretched out wherever it went, covering all that had been life and hope.

The imposing figure, born of suffering and despair, began its reign over the desert of death, a place where there would be no return to life, where what had been a vibrant ecosystem became a barren world ruled by a being that should never have existed.

Thus, the cycle closed, and the empty, lifeless, and torn cocoon was all that remained of the first manifestation of that horror. As a new domain of darkness rose, the echo of the past resonated in the hearts of those who dared to remember what had been and what would now never be again.

The greatest threat after the fallen god had appeared, and still no one knew of its existence. The beast lacked consciousness and reasoning, it only had the thought of destruction and search.

Now, it could only sense two things. The living beings nearby and the sealed remnants of the fallen god. As it could not clearly distinguish its priorities, the beast looked towards where it felt life, and with a chilling expression, it moved towards that place.

The concealment of the fragments of the fallen god before this transformation was still active, so, despite its powerful strength, no one could sense it, and in this was,y it began the path of death and destruction of a beast that should not have existed.